


What We Want

by Val_Creative



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Merlin, Comfort/Angst, M/M, Romance, Running Away, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s midwinter bathed in colorless light and somehow, Arthur’s entire body feels scorching. He feels it with Merlin, deep in one of the citadel’s many alcoves. They’re twisted and tangled together in shadows, limbs tight and hot breathes. </p><p>One of the passing maidservants spy them, and quickly ducks her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Want

**Author's Note:**

> Request from anon: "Merlin/Arthur (canon au) where Uther disapproves of Arthur's relationship with Merlin and they run away together. (bottom!merlin, nc17)"
> 
> DEANONING FOR MERLICFICDRIVETHRU AS FIC'S AUTHOR!

*

It’s midwinter bathed in colorless light and somehow, Arthur’s entire body feels  _scorching_. He feels it with Merlin, deep in one of the citadel’s many alcoves. 

They’re twisted and tangled together in shadows, limbs tight and breathes hot. 

Arthur’s hands feel wet with perspiration and sliding against Merlin’s buttocks, clenching down and guiding the other man down once again on his cock. 

The stone wall thumps against the back of Arthur’s skull, as Merlin cups his face and pushes their lips together. Warm drool passes Merlin’s lips, and Arthur gladly sucks it away from his bottom lip, sucking Merlin’s tongue.

Merlin’s legs are clamped around his waist, stiffening when Arthur humps against him and it nudges against a pleasurable spot inside Merlin. He whimpers low into the depths of Arthur’s mouth, unintelligible.  

One of the passing maidservants spy them, and quickly ducks her head.

*

The court and everyone else is ordered out of the great hall. 

Everyone  _but_  Arthur.

He prepares himself, shoulders lowering as Uther glares from throne stairs. 

“I’m disappointed in your lack of efforts to hide your fornication with the boy,” the king speaks aloud. He watches for any twitch of emotion on Arthur’s expression. “It’s not  _becoming_  as a future ruler. Dalliances with servants are expected, whatever gender they may be, but cannot be taken seriously.”

“Merlin is a friend, and I trust him completely,” Arthur says, tonelessly.

Uther lets out a short laugh, gesturing roughly.

“A king does not have friends.  _Allies_ are what you need. Other kingdoms to support you, and a marriage to a princess will strength your alliances.” 

Something in Arthur’s gut churns. 

“I don’t want a princess, Father,” he murmurs.

“ _You don’t know what you want_ ,” Uther says with force, sneering down at him. “Do not make me banish the boy. I’ll hear no more about this.”

Arthur’s jaw drops, and he takes a long step forward only to be summoned away by Uther’s guards. Nearly dragged back to his chambers. 

*

“ _Banished?_ ” Merlin repeats, dazedly.

Arthur smacks him on the back of the shoulder, pulling on a woolen blue cloak round himself. “Yes, pack faster, will you,” he says, angrily.

*

Merlin wastes no time. As soon as Arthur is vanished out the door, he starts gathering together supplies in their bags and satchels.

A soft, insistent knocking comes from outside. “Come in!” Merlin yells out, probably just a tad cheery in his demeanor, and then pauses from his chore. 

 _Wait_ – is he allowed to grant permission to Arthur’s room?

Thankfully, it's a familiar sight. Merlin nods his head politely, grinning. “Lady Morgana,” he acknowledges, straightening up.

“I see that Arthur is wasting no time dragging his servants and his friends on pointless hunting trips.” Morgana’s lips quirk, but her luminous green eyes read only concern. “I heard–” her voice catches, brimming with emotion, and she squares her shoulders primly. “How are you feeling, Merlin?”

Merlin’s own lips quirks, grateful. 

“Alright,” he lies.

“How long do you expect you’ll be?” she asks him. 

Merlin’s heart does a weak leap in his chest. But he reveals nothing, grinning once more and continuing packing.

“You know Arthur… I expect he’ll want to wait it out a season and a half to catch anything a decent size out past the Darkling Woods… do you mind keeping it a secret? Just us?”

One of her hands reaches out, touching Merlin’s shoulder. Her eyes full of concern once more before she chuckles, turning away, fragments of light catching the magnificent, colorful gems sewn into her dark, glossy hair.

” _Of course._  Try not to perish of boredom, Merlin.“

He laughs, nodding again as Morgana sweeps out, all beauty and grace. Merlin’s lips slowly flatten together, cringing.

*

Now all he needs is his own things. Merlin weaves his way through the marble-stone castle, dodging other servants and waving to friendlier ones.

He pushes the door to Gaius’ workshop, finding it empty. He’s halfway between relief and upset. Merlin doesn’t want to say goodbye to Gaius… but it may be the only opportunity he’ll have.

Quickly, Merlin races for his belongings, stuffing them into a rather large knapsack. He considers taking the grimoire, but thinks better of it. Merlin lets the magical book remain tucked away underneath the loose floorboard.

" _Merlin?_ “ Gaius steps in just as Merlin marches down the stairs. “Good, my boy. I need your help with–”

“I need to go, Gaius,” he interrupts, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder. It comes out more of a rushed blurt than anything calm, like Merlin wanted to sound. Gaius’ eyebrows rises with mild suspicion. 

“Arthur wants… I mean, I-I do too…” Merlin stammers, somewhere between flushing and blinking out the push of stinging tears.

After a long, silence moment, Gaius nods, clasping Merlin’s arm. 

“This is important to you, Merlin. I can see this,” he says. “Be safe.” 

When Gaius’ arms wrap around him tightly, Merlin almost loses his nerve, face scrunching up. He sniffs, wiping his leaking nose with a sleeve and forcing a grin. “See you, Gaius. Thank you.”

“…I’ll have your favourite when you come back, Merlin.”

When the workshop door closes shut behind him, Merlin lifts his sleeve once again, wiping at his reddening eyes.

*

The fresh air helps the buzzing in his skull and his nerves. Perhaps it would be much better if he doesn’t see Gwen. Merlin doesn’t think his heart could take another beating from the knowledge of missing another.

Instead of greeting Arthur in the stables, Merlin quickly sets to work bridling the horses and the knapsacks to the saddles. He doesn’t want Arthur to see he had been crying, even if the flush is beginning to disappear from his cheeks.

“We can ride towards the borders of the Darkling Woods before it gets too dark to go on, and make camp then,” Merlin says, voice rasping, checking the straps on his own black mare patiently flicking her tail behind her.

He’s about to double-check if Arthur’s saddle is positioned as it should be, and jumps startled as he’s turned in place. Arthur’s hands cradle his face. 

“Are you going to be alright, Merlin?”

The softness in Arthur’s voice only tremors Merlin’s resolve further – the resolve to keep his emotions at bay. He presses into Arthur’s kiss, slipping his hands under Arthur’s back and clenching his fingers in.

He lets a smile blossom across his pale features, lovely and new. "I regret nothing,” he murmurs, waiting for his honesty to sweep over Arthur and convince him. “I want to be at your side. More than anything.”

Arthur visibly relaxes. “Good,” he says, leaving Merlin’s arms. “Let’s go.”

“Of course, sire." 

Merlin prepares to climb up on his own horse when Arthur’s hands push him up, steadying him. Merlin peers over his shoulder, grinning amused when a hand brushes his arse. "Oi,” he complains, laughing. 

“I said,  _let’s go_ , Merlin.”

He watches Arthur climbs his own horse, making for the citadel’s gates.

For a moment, Merlin senses the rush of dizzying magic and a voice calling for him in the distance. As if  _calling him back_. 

He rides faster in the distance, chasing after Arthur’s white speckled horse.

 _Running_  from it.

*


End file.
